The wild never

The sky does not understand 

never. Its glassy blue body 

is an illusion hanging over everything. 

I can not shake it. And. 

Why would I want to. Except 

for the way it never, it never

disappears. Sometimes I fool myself. 

I believed the trees 

would not turn this autumn. That 

the weather had stolen the alteration 

and left instead just 

the crisp brown of dying. But here 

they are now, an apothecary 

of crimson hearts and stars 

dangling over every landmark 

my eyes can touch. I had almost 

managed to forget the way it felt 

to be plunged through by wildness. 

But here I am again: a forest

sized ache, waiting to be 

swallowed by that wild/     never-sky

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

This was very different from most things I read about nature; even different from a personal perspective of a self-proclaimed transcendentalist. I enjoyed the different view. I was reminded of a song (I always am) by country singer Leeann Womack titled, "I Hope You Dance" and a line contained in it where she says, "I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean". I think that natural wonder and awe is a good thing to maintain as well. I enjoyed the read.

[Eilis]

Thank you for the kind words, Fabian. I’m glad you enjoyed the poem.

[Ranger Kessel]

I love the forest size ache. Ive felt like that it times. I felt darkness reading this alone with appreciation. I enjoyed this.

[Eilis]

Hi, Ranger. Sorry for the delayed response. I have been away from the site. Thank you for reading. I’m glad you enjoyed.

[SkinlessFrank]

The notion that the natural forces of this universe are beyond the understanding of such small beings as ourselves, that we can only watch passively and wait for whatever is thrown at us is...this I often feel. It is an illusion, bordering on narcissism that we have any real control. You likely know that some physicists and philosophers have reached the common conclusion that we are part of some grand simulation, and yet I retain just enough self-awareness to react with an empty pit in my stomach when such a thought crosses my mind.

[Eilis]

It is a bit too twisty for me to think about, yes. It’s like thinking of ourselves as characters in a video game and that is quite unsettling. Sometimes the enormity of it all makes it seem we have boundless freedom. That can be scary in itself. The absolute openness. It’s hard to say how we function better—under direction or without that hand. Thanks for your always interesting comments.

[Coyote Poetry]

I loved the poetry Eilis.
"But here I am again: a forest
sized ache, waiting to be
swallowed by that wild/ never-sky"
I do like the above lines. I sought the salvation of the forest, the wild sea often and I still do. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[Eilis]

Thank you for sharing your lovely thoughts on the poem, Coyote. I’m glad you enjoyed.

[Coyote Poetry]

I did enjoy Eilis and you are welcome.

[Robert Haigh]

Some interesting imagery here. Also a certain sadness, and possibly frustration, tinged with anger and fear. "a forest sized ache" - I've certainly had that in my time! A mood piece, fairly open to interpretation. I enjoyed the read.

[Eilis]

Hi, Robert. I think that openness to interpretation may be my downfall sometimes. I appreciate your kind words on my poem. I’m glad you enjoyed.

[Robert Haigh]

Openness to interpretation is no bad thing. I remember the singer-songwriter Paul Simon once saying it is best to begin writing a song or a poem with as broad an approach as possible. If you start off with a very narrow perspective you can soon find that you have painted yourself into a corner!

[Eilis]

I do agree with you, Robert. Thank you for the reassurance. Much of the criticism I’ve received has centered around the difficulty of interpreting my poems. But perhaps openness and difficulty don’t have to coincide. Thanks again. I look forward to visiting your page soon.

[Red Brick Keshner]

The sky is, and in its firmament all we happen and exist or not, but it is. It would seem the higher up and further away we go in it the wilder it gets. But with the changing of seasonal colours, I surmise it will in its season change again.l Perhaps we could cycle back after each flight and managed the forest sized ache. Thanks for sharing.

[Eilis]

Hi, Frederick. Thank you for the interesting comment. I feel you’ve built on the originating feeling of the poem.

[Red Brick Keshner]

I believe so too. The poem just brought me a far off! Set a platform from which to launch into thought and wonder. Hope that didn't bother.

[Eilis]

No, I liked your comment. I think it’s great when we can inspire one another. Sorry it took me so long to respond to your comment. I’ve been away a couple of days.

[Red Brick Keshner]

Thanks, Ellis. I know how that goes. There isn't enough time in the world for everything that has to be done.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I love this delivery...poems with the words hanging out on the end of lines...perfect for the odd cadence of the read and the stress of inflection.
"a forest sized ache"
I am reminded of Horst Jankowski's instrumental, "A walk in the black forest"

I feel so at home in the wild forest of autumn color....for me it breathes, as does this poem.
j.

[Eilis]

Hi, Jacob. It’s lovely to hear from you. Your comments are always so encouraging to me. Sorry I have been a poor reader and participant here. I look forward to reading your poetry again soon.

[Lisasview]

Well, okay..okay.. a poem to ponder and the very first one I have read of yours..
Also, interesting line usage and nearly no punctuation...
Enjoyed the read nonetheless less,
Lisa, now in Spain

[Eilis]

Hi, Lisa. Thank you for your comment. Nice to meet you.

[JE Falcon]

As confusing as this poem could have left me, --- it did not. I especially loved the flow. Thanks for a great read and words well chosen.

[Eilis]

Thanks very much, JE. For reading and for your kind words.

[barleygirl]

Your poem feels like an allegory about love. The sky (love) is like this . . . & if we try to believe it's something else, or trying to believe we don't believe, the sky (love) will still sneak up on us & convince us to be swallowed up again. I love the way you use the word "never" . . . very thought-provoking! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Eilis]

Love is a subject I find perpetually bewildering, Margie. I suppose that could explain the sideways nature of this poem. I do like to take a word and see how it can be stretched now and then which was kind of where this started out. Never being my chosen word.

Thanks for sharing your insights and for your appreciation of the poem. Always enjoy reading your ideas.

[Chris Shaw]

Our moods can mirror our environment. It doesn't work that way in reverse. Your lines make me feel small and out of control. We have no say in whether the sky is blue or whether an oak tree will shed it's leaves in autumn. What will be will be and we have to learn to adjust and live with it. Sadly that can be more difficult for some. I hate the winter and want to hibernate. I should have been born in warmer climes. It can be easy to be swallowed by nature. I look at the wild fires in Australia, the severe flooding in other parts of the world. Yes that wild is destructive, but nature is fickle and at times calm will return. We know it won't last. Sometimes I am not sure where you travel to in your lines Eilis. These lines made me feel vulnerable to the seasons and weather patterns. Hoping you are in good spirits Eilis. All good wishes.

Chris

[Eilis]

Thank you, Chris. I’m doing ok. Staying busy and it’s unseasonably warm, so sometimes that helps ward off the doldrums.

I appreciate you tackling this poem when it feels unusual to you. So far it seems it feels that way pretty universally. I love nature and find so much to wonder at and admire. It has many faces and I feel that manifest in me sometimes. This one is a little wonky for me too, but all you say seems perfectly in tune with the feel of it.

Thanks for visiting. I do appreciate your insightful comments.